Unknown Territories
by Randomnamesuffice
Summary: Lucinda, a Romanian gypsy, living in France. She was trained to be a dancer/singer on the street. In order to protect her friends, Lucinda is owned by a man of "higher" power...and the new captain of the Guard has his eyes on Lucinda. Can he help her? R&R


**Alrighty then, my readers, I would like to show you a preview of my new story, the title is a work-in-progress, and I'm not certain about the male names, save for Nicolae, for his name is significant to his purpose in this story. Also, if you people notice that this storyline seems familiar, I **_**did**_** think of this while watching Hunchback of Notre Dame, it's darker and Quasimodo will _not_ be in this, so don't say anything about that. I'm actually putting this on FictionPress under Romance or whatever. If you'd like to read it there, or my other story there, my penname is the same: randomnamesuffice. **

**Now I can't promise that this story will be expanded, updated, or anything any time soon. My English teacher said I need to develop it and send it in for real publication, so I'm not too sure what I am going to do with it. Probably keep it on here, I like the simplicity of this sight and FictionPress…if people don't like it, they don't read it, and if they like it, they read it. No rejection from publishers, no hassle about deadlines or manuscripts. Anywho, here you go!**

"Excuse me, may you escort me to the Palace-" a man asked when he got pushed into a cart of baked goods.

"What do you think you are doing?" the seller asked, furious at the blonde man for knocking down two loaves.

"I'm so sorry, sir." the man exclaimed, stumbling again, causing another three to fall to the ground. That made the seller even more upset. The man fumbled to his bag that was attached to his horse's saddle.

"Just," the man sighed in defeat, "Be careful next time. Better yet, _don't _let it happen again." The man nodded as a sign of promise, "Good. Now since you seem new in town, tell me where you're headed and I'll point you in the right direction."

"Right, I'm looking for the Palace of Justice," he said while looking around, "It's been a while since I've wandered these streets," there was a hint of nostalgia in his voice that seller could not understand.

The seller eyed the man warily, "And you are?" No one _wanted_ to be in the Palace.

"Sorry," the man smiled, "James de Lioncourt," he pulled the blue cape off his torso to reveal his golden armor.

The seller had to shield his eyes from the glare, "So you're the new Captain," James nodded, "Finally someone's here to take care of them."

"Take care of whom, sir?" James had not heard of "taking care" of anyone, especially not in the way the man was implying.

"The devil-worshippers," the seller whispered and James stiffened, "The gypsies."

James immediately relaxed and smirked. He had seen many gypsies in his travels, and although they did not live inside the normal order of society, they were harmless and certainly not devil-worshippers. In fact, in his childhood, his good friend was a gypsy. He was the kindest person James had ever met, but he couldn't remember the boy's name…Nicu? Nicholas? Something with an "N"…

Despite his beliefs, James feigned a sincere smile and said, "I'll do my best, sir. Now the Palace of Justice…"

Lucinda remembered the smell of the burning cloth of the tents as she ran to safety, as her brother and sister had commanded. She remembered the painful screams of her siblings and friends as they perished in the flames. She remembered her urge to run back, go find help, something…Anything…But all she could do was turn and stare at her burning home, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks and freezing in the cold Romanian air.

Lucinda snapped her blue-green eyes open, blinking rapidly to will the memories away.

"Luce," Nicolae whispered, peaking in to her tent, "I heard screaming, are you alright?" He walked in and sat on the edge of Lucinda's bed, concern written all over his face.

Lucinda could do nothing but nod and smile at Nicolae… "I'm alright, just a little shaken."

Nicolae didn't seem convinced, but still said, "If you're sure, I'll wait by the cart. Get ready and meet me out there, we need to leave early to set up the stage in the main square." He smiled and left the tent.

Lucinda got up and stared at her reflection, her wild raven-hair swooping around her olive skin. She sighed while trying to fix it, looked in the mirror again, and saw her sister as her reflection. Luce knew that she was beautiful, and now that she was nineteen, she looked exactly like her elder sister. She could have almost been mistaken for Rosella's twin if it were not for the eyes, which were like her brother, Liam's eyes; blue-green almond-shaped with high arched eyebrows.

Still staring at her reflection made her think more and more of her siblings, she was the better of them both. She was everything that they were; Liam's genius and Rosella's beauty and dancing skills. These were attributes that made them wonderful in every way, and it killed her to have them when they weren't there to support her.

"Luce," Nicolae asked, "Are you decent?"

"If you consider a bodice and underskirt _decent_, then yes." She grabbed her dancing outfit and walked behind the privacy screen to change.

"You have a letter," he said sternly, he didn't want to give it to her, but knew that it was dangerous to keep it.

Although she knew whom it was from, she couldn't help asking, "Does it have a name?"

Nicolae let out a frustrated sigh, "It has the Minister of Justice's seal."

James had to admit to himself, he was nervous in meeting the Minister of Justice, for he had a horrible reputation to frightening to repeat. Walking down the dark corridors of the building didn't make him feel any better.

He finally made it to the balcony where the Minister was, and seeing the man made James want to flee the city. He was tall and lean, graying black curls down to his shoulders, a hooknose only meant for fairy-tale witches, and beady blue-grey eyes that could probably find a sin thousands of miles away. He was wearing what looked like winter garb; all black, long sleeved robes with broad red striped shoulders, and a triangular hat with a long red cloth hanging down to his hips. To sum it up, he was a remarkable sight.

James gulped loudly, and the Minister smiled at him, "James de Lioncourt, my new Captain of the guard," he praised, "Come, look out to the city with me."

James slowly walked to stand next to him, beads of sweat on his brow, "Look at them, Captain," Minister commanded with venom in his voice.

"What am I looking at, sir?" James mustered up all the courage he could find in his heart.

"Corruption, James," he said simply, "The poor citizens of Paris are completely unaware that every clap, every coin they drop, every laugh that they give the gypsies is pushing them one step closer to Satan's doorstep.

"For years, I've turned a blind eye to their heathen ways, but lately, I'm beginning to fear the worst for the innocent minds of Paris. The gypsies must recant, flee, or perish. They must be stopped." He spelled out each word slowly to create an impact on James.

"What are we going to do about it, sir?" James could not believe that he'd been called away from the Wars to deal with entertainers.

"Well," the Minister sighed thoughtfully, "Nothing for now… "Know thy enemy," Captain. I need to know where they all hide when day is over. Their safe haven, then and only then will we do something." he said with a sinister smile.

"Well, if that is all, then I shall go out and get to know the ins and outs of the town, in case I find anything that could be their refuge."

"Good, Captain," and he waved James off.

James was more than relieved to be getting away from his new superior. Something about the older man didn't suit too well with James at all, something dark and unholy, something that wouldn't belong to a righteous person like a Minister.

Too captured in his thoughts, James again accidentally bumped in to something else, only this time it was a person.

"I'm sorry," the two said in unison. James looked in to the face of his victim and realized that it was a woman, and not just an ordinary woman, a gypsy. He looked in to her eyes and thought that they were the most beautiful he had ever seen; a mix of the ocean and land, a perfect blue-green to contrast her olive-toned skin. There was a lock of her raven hair in front of her face, hiding her narrow nose.

James slowly lifted his slightly tan hand to move the hair, but the girl flinched away, startled. "I'm sorry," he said, immediately dropping his hand, "Miss…?" he raised his voice in curiosity, desperate to know the woman's name.

The girl looked around in worry, afraid that she would be in trouble if she revealed her identity, then looked in to his eyes. She had never seen him before, and by his armor, she knew that he was the new Captain that Minister Jean Claude had mentioned to her. What the Minister forgot to mention, however, was that James was young and _very _handsome. At least, to her, he was handsome.

"I'm James de Lioncourt," he smiled and lifted his hand for her to shake; "it's a pleasure to meet you…" he tried again in asking.

"Lucinda," she said as she grasped James's hand lightly.

"Lucinda," he said, trying out the name on his lips, "A beautiful name," he smiled, "As befitting."

Luce blushed, but then paled quickly when she saw Jean Claude stalking down the hall toward them, "I'm sorry, but I think you should leave," she said while trying to keep a kind smile on her face, but there was slight panic in her voice.

"I'm sorry, miss, did I say something to offend…" he was about to finish his question when he followed her gaze towards the Minister and his heart almost stopped.

"Ah Captain, I see you have met Lucinda," Jean Claude had a political smile painted on his face that never quite met his eyes. "You see, James, Lucinda is like a daughter to me, I took her in when she was nine and nursed her back to health. I like to think of her as my ward and I summoned her here today because I hadn't seen her in so long," he slung an arm around Luce's waist in a territorial manner.

"Yes, well, I must be going. It was a pleasure meeting you, Lucinda," he held eye contact with her as he kissed her hand, "Sir," he bowed and left the corridor.

Lucinda held in a yelp as Jean Claude threw her down to the floor with painful force.

"What have I told you about talking to _any_ of the soldiers?" he yelled as he dragged her up to his level.

"I," she stammered, "I just…he and I bumped into each other. He apologized and introduced himself." Lucinda tried not to let the tears of her fear fall.

"You two seemed a little _friendlier_ than two who just _bumped_ into each other," there was deadly venom in his voice that made Lucinda flinch away. "You know better than to make a conversation with any soldier!" She knew that one word that she could say wrong would not end well, but lying had even worse consequences.

"He just introduced himself and we shook hands…" Lucinda felt the sharp sting of Jean Claude's hand when it made contact with her left cheek, and she could not hold in the yelp and tears.

"You are to _never _speak to any civilian in this city! If I hear otherwise, I will make you regret ever coming to Paris," he commanded, pointing his long pale finger at her.

"I already do," she murmured, too quiet for him to hear, "I'm sorry, sir. I will never disobey you again."

His face calmed, the red from his rage paled, "I know you won't, now let us get on with our visit," his smile never did meet his eyes.

Lucinda straightened her posture and looked at her master, hatred consuming her very being. She did regret ever wandering so far from her Romania, but life was even worse there after the raid that killed Rosella and Liam. Soldiers were everywhere, torching every tent that they came across and burning gypsies with the accusation of them doing witchcraft.

Jean Claude had found Luce when she was nine, still with the flames fresh on her mind. At first, he set out on following her to find the gypsies' safe haven, but then realized that she was alone on the streets, sick and shivering from the snow. He took her in and had a servant nurse her back to health, deciding that she could be of use to him in the future. As soon as she was well enough to go on her own, he let her go on the condition that she come to the Palace of Justice whenever he beckoned. She did for five years without any trouble, but when she started getting her womanly features, all the soldiers would flirt with her. Seeing this happen, Jean Claude became very territorial, beating her whenever he would find her just speaking to another man. He made her vow not to speak to any of the soldiers, and if she did, he would let the gypsies go on "corrupting" the citizens of Paris.

Since Lucinda felt responsible for protecting her new "family", she could not refuse the Minister. She would do anything he asked…except when she turned eighteen, he started asking her to marry him. She refused; finding it repulsing that someone so old and hideous like Jean Claude would ask her such a thing.

He was supposed to be chaste, devoted only to God, but Lucinda's beauty corrupted his mind and made him desire her. He knew deep down that it was sinful, that she was like his own personal demon sent to deliver him to Lucifer, but he could not resist.

"You're mine, never speak to him again."

"Yes, sir."

**Tell me what you think please. R&Rs are my best friend!**


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